Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: What the Heck Is This? It's Scary. (4)
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# 12
Lately, I've been seriously considering retirement.
Evil Organizations are places where you can join whenever you want, but leaving is a whole different story. Still, with all the escape routes I've diligently prepared and the fake identities I've laundered, I figure I could make a run for it somehow.
And the reason this thought keeps crossing my mind?
It's because of No. 1000, sitting right in front of me with her eyes closed, gathering mana.
What did I even do to make her have an enlightenment?
I could understand if I'd explained some profound swordsmanship, but this was just me teaching her one-strike-kill assassination techniques because I appreciated her survival skills.
They don't even have names. I'm just spicing up a few techniques the organization uses and passing them along.
But somehow, she's gaining enlightenment from that.
I'm teaching her how to effectively stab and slash vital points—what's there to enlighten about?!
The only thing to learn here is human vital spots!
And the part where she gained enlightenment? "The most important point of a one-strike kill is killing the enemy in one strike."
No, the name itself is "one-strike kill"! If I teach this guy my real secrets after she goes "Ah..." like some wuxia novel protagonist, she might transcend humanity, and that scares me.
Fine. Fine, I'll cut No. 1000 some slack.
She's a kid in her early teens who didn't even flinch at the great demon Surtr—instead, she just slashed him for blocking her path to food.
She's a high-risk factor who might punch a hole in my gut if I make her fast without reason, but as long as I feed her well, she's easy to control.
But what about No. 17?
Honestly, since she can't use mana, everything I taught her about magic is basically theory.
No, even calling it theory is a stretch—I'm just regurgitating stuff I heard in my past life and common novel tropes as if I developed them myself, and this girl still gains enlightenment.
Then she turns that fiction into reality and uses it!
Was fiction not fiction after all?!
Did all those authors from my past life go to a fantasy world and write memoirs?!
And even No. 1, who was lagging behind the others, caught up at an astonishing speed.
He's absorbing every sword technique I know.
When No. 1000 gained enlightenment and whined that I wasn't teaching her, I just rattled off some wuxia novel bits, and this guy enlightened himself.
No, even the previous batch wasn't this extreme, but what's with this group? Why are they growing so fast?
-Kuooooh!
The massive fire giant bellowed.
""Ice Buster.""
-Kuooooh!
The massive fire giant bellowed in agony.
"Judgment of the Earth."
In the meantime, the completed spell made the ground rumble as stone pillars erupted upward.
I've experienced a world engulfed in war, but honestly, scenes like this still give me chills every time.
And to think kids not even 15 are pulling this off.
Yet the organization can't conquer the world even with talents like these!
How strong is the world, exactly?!
"Go wild, Surtr!"
The premium sandbag Surtr wrapped himself in flames and charged, but No. 1000 easily dodged his swing and overtook him.
"Damn it!"
But No. 1, who failed to dodge the hidden projectile No. 1000 secretly flung and couldn't evade immediately, ended up facing Surtr. Is this going to make No. 1 last again? The moment I thought that—
"Sky Slash!"
-Kraaaah!
Overwhelming mana poured from the sword.
One strike. Even with all the restrictions, its defense was beyond imagination, yet it got reverse-summoned in one hit.
But that wasn't the important part.
"That was just something from a comic book..."
I was holding back my real techniques, so I just told him stuff from comics, and he actually used it.
And I taught him that yesterday!
Even the previous batch took a year to use it, but right away! That's supposed to be the unique technique of a frail beautiful girl!
Ugh! What do I do now?
Even if there's a way to graduate them early, they need at least a year of training. Otherwise, it'll be chalked up to their talent, not my results.
Then not only will my position be at risk, but my performance bonus will vanish too.
The dwarf geezers are already hounding me about the overdue payments, and if I lose the bonus, I'll end up in debt.
"The kids are really impressive, huh."
I was seriously pondering if I had to reveal my secrets already when a familiar voice—one I didn't want to get used to—came from behind.
"Sia, weren't your batch like that too?"
"Hehehe, that was fun back then. I wonder how the other kids are doing these days."
What nonsense. We're rivals, sure, but we meshed weirdly well during crunch time.
Probably keeping some ties in case of emergencies.
And if we ever teamed up, it might be to bury me.
Honestly, if I were them, I'd bury a instructor like me too.
If I weren't the instructor, making them fight dirty over food like that.
"Anyway, what's up?"
"Oh come on. A beauty like me comes to visit personally, and you're so stiff... Ah, hold on. Put that away."
The moment she started with the nonsense, I raised one of the clubs I was holding, and she freaked out, stepping back.
"Not master, instructor."
"Same difference... Yeah, yeah. Instructor. So put that thing away a bit!"
There's one reason she freaks at the sight of this wooden bat.
She's been hit by it a lot.
You gotta grow up taking beatings in school days. That's how they learn to listen.
And for corporal punishment, this wooden bat is the best!
After my first stint as interim instructor, once I became official, I trained exactly two disciples, but something felt lacking.
It was corporal punishment!
Punishment is tricky.
Skip it, and they don't listen. Go too hard, and injuries mess up training.
So for the perfect punishment, I worked on Project Bat even while on imperial duties, using royal connections and异族 contacts to engrave all sorts of spells and rituals into a world tree branch.
The result? This wooden bat! Doesn't look like a baseball bat, but the name stuck!
This bat packs 24 spells baseline, plus 10 curses, 14 blessings, and 12 ancient rituals. No wounds no matter how much you take, but even light hits bring immense pain—the textbook punishment tool.
It shone when training my second batch of disciples, making them super obedient afterward!
Nostalgic memories welled up as I fiddled with the bat contentedly, but Sia took another step back.
"Doesn't it not even hurt to get hit by this anymore?"
"No. Not at all. It hurts. Getting used to it and it not hurting are totally different, Instructor."
Whoa, it's been ages since she got this serious.
"Anyway. Asking again. Why are you here?"
"Oh, obviously... Fine, I'll explain properly, so please put it away! It's the routine trainee verification. Here to monitor and test for any dangerous elements."
"No need for you to come personally."
"You need to realize how highly the higher-ups value your disciples, Instructor. Don't you know?"
"If they value me so much, they could raise my pay."
"...How much does the organization already pay you."
She shakes her head, but lacking is lacking.
Even with side pockets from missions, I haven't built satisfactory retirement funds.
Research eats money faster than I thought.
"Starting now?"
"Yes. I'm busy too."
Shrugging, Sia flashed a bright smile at me.
"So, I'll borrow your juniors for a bit."
#5 Their Side: The Spy Infiltrating the Evil Organization. (1)
"Alright, No. 17."
"Yes."
A routine different from the usual—one that could threaten my life at any moment.
And the beauty before me, handling this routine, is the deputy director of the organization's core intel bureau.
"We'll begin the verification."
If they find out I'm the lady of the Nermia family during this verification, what happens?
I could get brainwashed into the organization's tool, or executed as a hostage or example.
Therefore, I must use everything to dodge this verification.
The moment I steeled myself, her gentle smile turned icy cold, and an utterly unexpected question flew at me.
"Do you prefer older or younger for your ideal type?"
"Pardon?"
My mind blanked for a second, but I snapped back. Why would an Evil Organization need this question?
Right, it's a ploy to make me drop my guard!
While I fluster and babble, she'll extract info. So I'll answer normally.
"I prefer older."
Chill.
I felt killing intent instantly. Did I answer wrong?
But younger than 14 is a kid. I'm at an age where being treated like a child isn't weird, but younger? Dubious if they even grasp romance.
"I see. Deduction."
"Wait! What for?!"
She scribbles seriously with a straight face. Another guard-drop trick?!
"Fine. Follow-up to the last question. How much older is ideal?"
But her eyes moving to the next were dead serious.
"Older... like 5 years?"
Should be safe. Too much is weird. She nods, canceling the deduction.
I swear I heard her mutter "Good thing I don't have to kill her," but must be my imagination?
"Now, explain why."
"Hmm... Honestly, at my age, younger is too childish, and way older feels burdensome, mismatched..."
I ponder why this question while answering diligently.
Can't read her intentions.
As expected of the empire's worst Evil Organization—still too much for my skills!
"Yes, good. Excellent."
As I explain my tastes for someone around my age, she nods in satisfaction.
Maybe all my suspicions were wrong, and she's just probing my real preferences.
"And middle-aged is kinda iffy."
"Why iffy for middle-aged?"
Why killing intent again?! What did I do?!
"Uh? W-well, the age gap..."
What? What'd I mess up?
Isn't this normal?
Liking middle-aged at 14 is for weird kids with daddy issues, right?
"The vigor of 20s is mere bravado. Men risking lives for slightly prettier girls, believing females flock to the strongest like animals. Middle-aged are different. They've gained vast experience, endlessly learning and tempering through life. Sure, some devolve into useless womanizers without growth, but the well-aged ones. Yes, good word: aged. You don't call cheap wine aged just left long. Fine wine becomes finer. That's aging."
She's monologuing now.
Loving "aging," she nods happily, her expression making it impossible to believe this is the genius deputy intel director who claimed the post young.
"A handsome middle-aged wrinkle is like tree rings, etched deeper with age. White hair on a fine middle-aged man? Traces of hardships endured."
The talk shifts to middle-aged praise—personal taste or trap to lower my guard? Instinct says former, brain screams latter.
"Hearing you, middle-aged do have their charm."
A subconscious positive amid my swirling thoughts. But wrong choice.
"Want to die?"
"Pardon?"
"Declaration of war? Saying middle-aged has charm to my face—what's that mean?"
"No, I mean... Listening to you, Deputy Director, made me see middle-aged have their own appeal..."
"Yes, obvious. But don't approach thinking you feel that appeal."
What am I supposed to do?!
Plus, feel the charm but don't approach? My training's internal, so around me... Huh...? No way?
"Do you like the Instructor by any chance?"
I voiced the hypothesis hitting my mind.
"Yes. But?"
Instant reply?!
She's serious! Then the kill threat earlier was real?!
"I swear on god and my soul: even if I target middle-aged, the Instructor won't be."
"Then sign here."
To survive, my instinctive plea ends, and she swiftly presents something like she was waiting.
Paper with writing, glowing. Like the slab the Instructor used scamming the great demon recently...
"Geass Roll?"
"Didn't you swear on god?"
She smiles radiantly, pushing the contract—sign or die vibe.
Honestly, respect as a mage, but romantically? Not the Instructor.
"Where do I stamp?"
Smiling, I press my print, ending my verification.
Yeah. This organization will collapse soon without the empire touching it.